Tag Archives: perspective

Intentionally disconnected

Is it just me that has been intentionally disconnecting from the news and even social media around the war in the Middle East?

I truly understand my privilege in saying this, since I don’t have loved ones in jeopardy. And understand the desire of some people to know what’s going on because there are global ramifications. Yet I find myself unable to concern myself with the political posturing, the doublespeak, the justifications, and the outrage. I feel like I don’t have the mental capacity to either partially engage and feel insignificantly informed or to delve in and be fully informed… and ultimately powerless to do more than fill my brain with visions of destruction and violence.

Even though I usually choose to ignore the negativity of news, I still tend to keep myself updated on global issues and major news stories, but I’m struggling to engage right now. I find it too disheartening.

It makes me question the humanity of humans. That as a species we can construct such diametrically opposed ideologies; that we can live in societies that value greed over the welfare of the community; that we can choose leaders who do not care for the people that elected them into ‘service’… these are things I don’t understand. Or rather, things I don’t want to believe that humans could value more than peace, love, and kindness.

And so for now I lack the capacity to engage. It seems like a futile activity that will anger and upset me, with no gain. It is rare for me to actively choose to be uninformed, but right now is one of those times.

Appreciate the tiny wins

Tiny wins are often hard to see. They don’t seem significant, but they accumulate.

James Clear explains in Atomic Habits that 1% better daily will compound into becoming 37 times better in a year.

You don’t go heavier on a lift in the gym, but you eke out a couple extra reps.

You walk into a coffee shop and get right to the counter before a rush of people that have to line up behind you.

You hit almost every green light on your way home from work.

You actually enjoy a meal that sounds too healthy to be tasty.

You write a single sentence and suddenly your muse has arrived.

We don’t always see them, we rarely celebrate them, but the tiny little things that we can choose to pay attention to and appreciate can be the highlight of the day… or the precursor to more wins, big and small, in the future.

Live a Lifetime in a Day

I love this metaphor for how to live a meaningful life, “Live a lifetime in a day,” shared by Harvard physician Dr Aditi Nerurkar on The Diary of a CEO podcast. I took the liberty of emphasizing each of the 5 stages for easy reference:

“[w]hat creates a meaningful life… is to live a lifetime in a day.

And so that sounds like this big thing, but all it is, is that when you start your day, think about five things,

five things that you can do in your day to create an arc of a long and meaningful life in one day.

So what does that mean?

Spend a little bit of time in childhood.

So in wonder and play, even if it’s for a few minutes, do something that brings you joy for joy’s sake.

Spend a little bit of time in work.

We all know what that is, and for most of us, it’s a lot of time, but for, you know, it doesn’t have to be paid work, but just something that helps you feel a sense of productivity agency that I can do difficult things and I can overcome.

Spend a few minutes in solitude,

very important for all of the reasons that we’ve talked about today.

Spend some time in community,

so engaging with others, and then

spend some time in retirement or in reflection,

really taking stock of your day. So at the end of the day, when you’re going to bed and you’re putting your head on your pillow, you can say, okay, yes, I lived a meaningful life. I did all of those things.”

~ Dr Aditi Nerurkar on ‘The Diary of a CEO’ with Steven Bartlett: Brain Rot Emergency: These Internal Documents Prove They’re Controlling You!, Feb 15, 2026.

What a beautiful frame to start your day with. Usually I’ve got more reflection to contribute after I share something like this, but I really don’t this morning.

We’d all be a bit more happy, more appreciative of the life we live, if this was our daily goal.

Moths to the flame

Chris Williamson recently shared this quote:

“You pity the moth confusing a lamp for the moon, yet here you are confusing a screen for the world.” — Jay Alto

Our fixation is intense. We cling to tiny dopamine hits, scrolling unaware of the world around us. Ironically, what we are doing is dividing our attention into tiny video clips, catchy sound bites, and dancing in an emotional roller coaster between humour and rage, while simultaneously focusing our attention on a single screen.

We are merely moths, our screens are the light to which we fly. Our humanity suspended as we meet some primordial desire in a way that would be considered comical if it wasn’t also sad, if not tragic.

99 Days

Although I’m retiring at the end of the school year I really haven’t been tracking or counting down (yet). But I do have a colleague that is also retiring and he shared with me that yesterday marked 100 work days until we are done. So I’m heading into work today with just 99 work days left. That seems a bit surreal to me.

I know someone who started their retirement countdown with over 2 years left. It worked for him, but my mind doesn’t operate that way. I have always struggled with being excited through anticipation. I used to fake it for my kids, but they are grown up now. I get a tiny bit excited for a trip the night before, but only after my bag is packed. Even if I’m packing a bathing suit to go sit on a beach, the excitement level isn’t that high for me.

Sometimes I feel like I’m missing out by not getting excited in advance. I see excited anticipation in others and wonder what gene I’m missing that I don’t get the same feeling. I know that comparison is the thief of joy, but there is something ironic about joy being the thing you are lacking in your comparison.

99 days. Down to double digits. It seems short. There is still so much to do. And yet, I’m ready. Maybe not excitedly ready, but I’m ready.

Reconnecting and remembering

I had lunch with a former student yesterday. It was great to connect and hear how things are going, not just for him, but for his brother and a few other former students he still connects with. It grounds me when I have these opportunities. It reminds me that school is just a short stop on the journey of life. It puts school into perspective.

And yet, despite saying that, the experience we give to students is so important. I read a post on LinkedIn yesterday by an educator I admire and respect. He has a wonderful, high needs kid with challenges that make her school experience difficult. In the post he shared how inflexible the system, or more specifically some people in the system, have been with her… and how hard it has been for her to cope with this in addition to the challenges she faces.

Going back to my visit, this student went to our school when I was overwhelmed, running 3 schools and also dealing with chronic fatigue. He remembers how I struggled. He reminded me of my own challenges I had. But that wasn’t the focus of our conversation, and it wasn’t the only thing we reminisced about.

Still, this provides a little insight into a couple things. First of all, we all deal with things that affect how we cope with daily life, and we can’t really see how we are affected by circumstances or even be aware of how circumstances are affecting others. Secondly, as short as the school journey is, it makes a huge difference in peoples lives.

Our interactions, our attention, our considerations, our disposition, and our actions make differences in the experiences of students. We don’t know the full impact we will have. We don’t know the things people will remember about us when they move on… the best we can do is to remember that all of our interactions matter, and that we have an impact whether we realize it or not, so let’s work to make that impact the best it can be.

Remembering to PAUSE (#OneWord)

Just before the school year started I decided that I would choose a ‘#OneWord’ for the (school) year, and that it would be PAUSE. The tradition for One Word is to choose it to start the calendar year, but for my final school year I thought it was apropos.

I shared,

There is a lot I’m going to miss when I leave this job, what I don’t want to do is miss things while I still have time to enjoy them. I’m going to seek out opportunities to take pause in my day and truly experience the things I cherish.

This came to mind a few times from September to December, but not often enough. Moments where I spent a little extra time in a class, or didn’t just leave the class after one presentation so that I could see the next one. Moments where I sat to chat with staff rather than just sharing a message or asking a question then heading back to my office. Small pauses, meaningful but sparse.

This is my personal reminder to pause a little more often as I head to my end of the school year retirement… what I don’t want to do is miss things while I still have time to enjoy them.

Batteries recharged

Tomorrow is the last day of our winter break and I have to say that I feel fully ready to get back to work. January is probably my busiest month and if I’m honest, I was not looking forward to starting back after the break.

And now I’m ready.

I can’t say that I fully shut down, but I did so far more than usual, and I think that’s part of the reason I feel so recharged. It’s a little unfortunate that I’m figuring this out so late in my career. For example, I didn’t ignore email, but I realized that there really isn’t much that can’t wait for a response this coming Monday or Tuesday. So I let it go. Earlier in my career I would have felt compelled to respond right away, often unintentionally inviting another email and more work… when the need for a response was not urgent.

Both ‘letting go’ and ‘turning off’ are cathartic, refuelling. Understanding that not just my body but my brain also needs a break is the reason I’m ready.

But first, I have one more Sunday to enjoy.

The year that was

In the grand scheme of things the end of a year is arbitrary. It does not sit on a solstice, it has no real significance in the dance of the planets around our sun. It’s simply a date on the Gregorian calendar, so named after a Pope almost 450 years ago. And yet the end of a calendar year begs us to do some accounting for the year that has past, and it makes us ponder our accountability for the year to come.

It is a pause in the meter of a timeline we all share. A moment to take note, to reflect, to make sense of what was, and to then align with what we think should come next.

For me there sits a simple, key question to ponder: Was it a good year? The answer is less simple. Did I seize it or waste my year? Did I find more joy than sorrow? What will I cherish, and what do I wish to forget? What did and didn’t I accomplish? Was I present enough? Did I create anything of value? Do I keep going ‘as-is’ or make changes?

These are reflections and perspectives I have control over. But 2025 had moments I could not control. A loved one suffered a scary health incident with a slow, lingering recovery. And I lost a sister both unexpectedly and too soon. Reminders that we are only on this earth a short time and time is ultimately limited. Such reminders simultaneously make me want to leave 2025 behind, and yet leave me wanting to hold onto the past… hold on to an innocence, if not ignorance, of the pain of loss.

But that was the year that was, not the year yet to be. That was 2025, a year with only hours left before the calendar is forever left in the past. A year that I leave with a whimper not a bang. Maybe in the grand scheme of things the end of the year is arbitrary, but for me, I’m happy to leave the year that was behind… A reminder to value and cherish 2026 not only this time next year, but meaningful moment by meaningful moment all year long.

Finding meaning

The meaning of life is to give life a meaning.” Viktor Frankl

I sometimes think we spend most of our lives like Santiago, the protagonist in Paulo Coelho’s book, The Alchemist… seeking a treasure that was always under his nose.

We seek meaning, we don’t make it.

We strive for more, not realizing how much more we already have, or as Chris Williamson says, “You have already achieved goals that you said would make you happy.” 

We desire stuff that distracts us from ourselves. We look outward when we should look inward. We seek accolades instead of seeking happiness or gratitude.

We spend our time chasing opportunities that rob us of time, in an endless loop that makes us live a life of not noticing.

Not noticing the beauty of the world around us. Not noticing the opportunities to connect with people we care about. Not thinking twice about mindlessly scheduling another hour in our calendar for a work meeting, but not blocking off time to call or spend time with a friend.

When I say, ‘We seek meaning, we don’t make it.’ What I really mean is that we play hide and seek with meaning. It’s hidden within us, and yet we spend our time in pursuit of it anywhere and everywhere else… and don’t understand why it’s so elusive?